The Victorian Portrait Company

♦ From my book 'Nothing But The Rain' ♦ We hang our shame on the wall For the world to thoughtfully dissect, A distorted family masterpiece of ill will, Bitterness and venom coloured sepia, Is this post-mortem photography? A thousand autumns of disrelished taboo? Each moment fractured, fragmented, Arranged epoch, Frozen forever, But this is... Continue Reading →


Was pain always just short of the worlds we paint in strokes? Alias to love wrapped in whispers and scented with foxglove. Our words were kissed with steal, embedded in swordplay. Each a symbol of transformation from form to emotion. And we wait for secrets to unfold themselves, all the little white horses that trace... Continue Reading →


Purple ran with peacock flourishes To the ground with ancient nourishment, Majestic radiance shared solemn eyes When casting fruition to guarded hearts, I held her all night long, as though each second Would shatter the clock face if circular life Would turn to any other shape, provocative, Transposed and transported interpretations, I could never let... Continue Reading →


Reflections distort, But can only see me, Obscurity and fractures Named for former Promised lands Are fragments more Than thorns alone, Identity thrusts against Walls and bleeds Into echoing margins Conquering, killing me Amongst divided hours While lacerations Play their part, I wait For inspiration to engulf, Overwhelmed, Will I drown corrupted Between the soft... Continue Reading →

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